


you really got, really got a hold on me

by iPhone



Category: Pitch Perfect (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/F, First Kiss, Fluff, Romance, lots of kisses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-08
Updated: 2018-04-08
Packaged: 2019-04-20 06:55:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,690
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14255406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iPhone/pseuds/iPhone
Summary: There are no accidents with them - it’s just that they have the worst timing in the world. Five times they kiss and get caught and the one time they kiss without a care in the world.Chloe-centric.





	you really got, really got a hold on me

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr prompt from anon: A 5+1 fic where five times the other Bellas caught Beca and Chloe kissing and the one time they just kissed like nobody cared. Like moving from a pre-relationship in the 5 series and then tots dating in the +1
> 
> Posted on my tumblr as well @ isthemusictoblame
> 
> Fic is driven by Barcelona’s “I Do It to Myself”.
> 
> Enjoy!

**1\. shake me up like an earthquake**

It’s an accident. 

Chloe is really just trying to help Beca unpack and really settle into The Bellas’ house, just slightly off-campus.

‘Trying’ is the keyword because Chloe rifles through all of Beca’s boxes excitedly, picking up books, leather jackets, and fun-looking novelty items that only endear her to Beca more. She and Beca tentatively agreed to share a room because Beca enjoys privacy, larger spaces, and a functioning door. Chloe has all of those things and she’s even willing to offer up some dresser space to Beca if she needs.

“Movies?” she asks, picking up a smaller box with Beca’s messy scrawl over the top. 

“Oh, yeah. Jesse’s,” Beca says nonchalantly. She continues meticulously hanging up shirts and cardigans, all in varying shades of grey, brown, black, and the occasional blue. “He wants me to watch those movies, at least, before school lets back in.”

Chloe shrugs, putting the box away. Her eyes fall on another box marked  _MISC_  and she grins, tugging it towards her. “What’s in here?”

“Just some desk stuff,” Beca replies after sparing a cursory glance.

Chloe pulls out the cutest stapler. It’s green and brown and shaped like a grasshopper. “This is so  _cute_!”

Beca whirls, as if the adjective personally affronts her, and her eyes land on the stapler. “Oh, that was a gift from my mom,” Beca manages to say with a completely straight face, though she looks like she’s resisting the urge to run over and remove it from Chloe’s grasp.

“It’s cute,” Chloe repeats, eyes lifting so she can fix Beca with a pointed stare and grin.

“Okay,” Beca says, clapping her hands together. “Give him back.”

“Him?” Chloe pretends to click the stapler at her. “He has a name, doesn’t he?”

She’s just slightly taller than Beca, so even though they’re both barefoot, she manages to lift it just high enough out of Beca’s reach.

“Name,” Chloe says, enjoying the way Beca’s eyes light with frustration, but also amusement. There’s a teasing glint in her eyes, something that Chloe has been pleased to draw out of her with an increasing frequency. It does nothing to dampen the feelings that have gradually taken over her life since Beca herself walked into her life that fateful day.

“How about you give him back and we don’t have to worry about his name?” Beca suggests, standing toe-to-toe with Chloe now. “I knew Amy would be a better roommate,” Beca says without malice. The small smile tugging at her lips gives her away.

Chloe scoffs. “I-” Chloe stops short because she’s never really noticed the way Beca’s eyes look at such close proximity - a proximity that she doesn’t recall initiating or pushing for herself. She clears her throat, slowly lowering her arms so that she doesn’t accidentally knock the stapler onto either of their heads. “I-here,” she says quietly.

Beca’s demeanour has changed slightly as well and her hands make their way on to Chloe’s forearms, though they stutter in their ascent, as if Beca doesn’t quite have control over her own body. 

Chloe knows the feeling.

Beyond that, Chloe’s not sure who initiated it. She deems it an accident and chooses to move on. 

But if she were to describe it, she’d recall the way Beca’s lips had felt against hers, the way that the brief moment of tenderness served to fuel her fantasies for the next few years. There had been something in the way Beca’s fingers had tightened on her forearms, a desperate attempt to pull her close, yet push her away at the same time, though Chloe remembers feeling so frozen that she didn’t exactly do anything to escalate or de-escalate the situation.

In the end, it’s Beca who pulls back, that much Chloe is sure. And it’s just as Fat Amy throws open Chloe’s door, holding take-out and a smile. The smile fades quickly, but she holds fast to the take-out.

“I got take-out to celebrate our first night,” Amy says, trailing off. “But it looks like-”

“-Nothing,” Beca says. Her face is closed. Impassive.

The silence that falls over them is oppressive and Chloe immediately regrets it (though the  _it_ is unclear because she will never regret this slow descent, this slow burn of  _loving_  Beca and not having her reciprocate; she regrets, perhaps, kissing Beca like that). 

Amy backs away slowly, though the curiosity in her eyes lingers. Chloe tries to smile to comfort everybody in the room, including herself. She has always been good at hiding disappointment, so she just turns away and lets it go.

They don’t talk about it.

Amy and Beca end up sharing a room and Chloe gets a huge room to herself.

It’s an accident, after all.

 

* * *

 

**2\. spinning me around ‘til I can’t think straight**

It’s instinct.

It’s their third ICCA win and they’re riding the high of this win. They had come away with a near perfect score, the judges praising their vocal arrangement and fine-tuned mash-up. There had been a special mention for their choreography as well, all of which (the music and the choreo) added up to hours of work from Beca and Chloe, official co-captains of The Bellas.

Chloe joins in on the excited yelling on-stage and startles when Beca’s arms wrap around her middle and she’s being lifted and  _spun_ without a care in the world. It’s probably the adrenaline because Beca rarely displays physical exertion of any kind when she doesn’t need to. She laughs when Beca sets her down, arms coming to rest over Beca’s shoulders comfortably.

It’s instinct. This time, it’s for sure  _Beca_  who kisses her. She leans up and presses a kiss against Chloe’s mouth, moving at the last moment so that her lips make contact just slightly off-center, half lips, half cheek.

Chloe’s mouth is open and her arms slacken. Beca’s hands drop away from her waist and she looks equally surprised at her own actions.

“Um?” It’s Flo, still holding a baton in one hand and streamers in the other. They’re still on stage with all The Bellas. 

Beca’s expression morphs into panic. She doesn’t quite know what to do and - Chloe will laugh about this later - she grabs Flo and plants a kiss on the corner of her mouth as well.

Flo looks even more shocked than she did before, though the rest of the Bellas look less suspicious. Chloe catches Stacie’s eye and laughs it off, shrugging. Fat Amy has Beca in a headlock at this point, so Chloe subtly tries to step away from the group.

“I’ll…I’ll see you later,” Chloe says, clearing her throat. She directs it all the Bellas, who are watching with equally curious expressions. “At the party. I just have to go pick up something.” It’s directed at all of them, but her eyes can’t help it if they fixate on Beca, just like they did those years ago, across the quad.

It’s been difficult over the past two years of co-existing with Beca in such close proximity. Chloe tries to make herself scarce whenever Jesse visits the house, tries to make herself a silent shoulder to cry on whenever Beca fights with Jesse.

Instead, what occupies most of her time is when Chloe spends her time trying not to think about what it means when Beca’s gaze lingers just a few seconds too long, or what it means when Beca shivers whenever their bodies graze in some way.

Instead, she thinks about the next person she can choose to take home - guys, girls, she’s not particularly picky.

Instead, she thinks about the hug, the kiss, and the panic that had risen through her body because she can’t imagine losing Beca as a friend at this point. Now, at the party, she avoids eye contact and makes sure that she can make a beeline for the alcohol without interruption. She takes a swig of the jungle juice that Fat Amy has concocted and chokes a little at the burn.

“Congrats,” Beca says excitedly, likely a little tipsy. She’s behind Chloe, but moves to lean against the counter.

Chloe sets her drink aside, taking note of Beca’s flushed expression. “Congrats to you too,” she says good-naturedly. She nudges Beca with her shoulder. “Co-captaincy worked out well.”

“It’s kinda weird,” Beca starts, ignoring Chloe. “I want to kiss you again,” Beca says bluntly. Her hands are gripping the edge of the counter. “Please,” she tries again, quieter.

“No,” Chloe says even if her body screams at her in protest. “You’re with Jesse and-”

“We broke up.”

How many times has Chloe heard that before?

“You’re going to get back together,” Chloe says firmly, trying to ground herself. This conversation is dizzying in how many times she’s heard it before. “You’re meant to be,” she says under her breath, ignoring how that sentence makes her chest light up more than the alcohol had felt going down her throat.

Beca hears that, however, and looks as conflicted as Chloe has felt over the past three years. “I’m…I am?”

And Beca sounds so unsure, so lost in that moment that Chloe wants to just take Beca home and tuck her into bed so she can sleep this entire night away.

As if some kind of resolve builds back up, Beca pushes herself off the counter and walks away.

Chloe thinks about how instinctive it’s become to  _not_  chase after Beca because she’s stopped allowing herself to feel.

(It kills her every time.) 

 

* * *

 

**2a. (every night, losing my memory)**

Chloe dreams of kissing Beca, even when she's not asleep.

It happens so often that it becomes a nightmare to be awake and dreaming; a nightmare to see Beca kissing Jesse because of course, they're the couple that would last.

 

* * *

 

 

**3\. tell me once**

Chloe doesn’t cry about it a lot. She’s learned to manage her feelings well over four years of knowing Beca at school. Beca, who is taken and seriously dating Jesse.

Until she’s not.

Living together has been…interesting, to say the least.

Aubrey’s harshly whispered “are you sure this is a good idea?!” still echoes in Chloe’s mind a year later. A year later and she’s living with Beca and Fat Amy and she’s sharing a bed with  _Beca_.

A departure from when Beca literally fled from sharing a room with her at Barden.

It’s almost too much of a pain to tell the story of their time in New York, so Chloe just settles on the fact that her and Beca are verging into friends-with-benefits territory and leaves it at that.

But if she were to tell it at length, she would mention how every Friday night, Beca comes home after drinking with her coworkers and curls up in their shared queen-sized bed. She’ll scoot over and kiss Chloe’s shoulder, cuddle into her side, and if she’s feeling particularly mischievous, press a kiss against Chloe’s neck.

Chloe freezes through it all because while Beca is  _single_ , Chloe has never known this to be true. Chloe has never known what to do when an opportunity presents itself because with Beca, that has never been true. 

The Friday nights become longer when Beca comes home earlier and earlier, each time more sober than before. It’s not quite the explanation for  _why_  they start their impromptu make-out sessions.

Beca’s hand will curl around her neck and tug her in for a kiss, all hard and rough nips. Like Beca’s not quite sure herself what this is. 

Hands will wander, but just stopping short of giving into desire.

It’s comfort, neediness, and desperation all rolled into their bed on Friday nights. It kills Chloe because Saturday mornings means that Beca doesn’t want to talk about it, pretending like it never happened.

“We should stop,” Chloe says, pushing at Beca’s shoulder because she doesn’t want Amy to see them, or rather, she doesn’t want Amy to scare Beca off.

(She’s scared, herself.)

“Okay,” Beca says, rolling back to her side of the bed, breathing heavily.

“No, like – we should  _stop_. I can’t do this, Bec.” She doesn’t bother giving any further explanation because she’s not even sure what  _this_  is. She doesn’t expect Beca to give her any explanation.

“Oh,” is all Beca says after a brief silence.

They lie like that in silence, worlds apart, until Amy comes home.

She eyes them oddly, lying in bed, a foot apart, both staring at the ceiling.

“Well, please, don’t stop making out for my benefit.”

It’d be funny if it didn’t make Chloe’s heart thud painfully in her chest.

And the tears.

 

* * *

 

**3a. (in the game of love, i fall behind)**

Chicago is a safe haven.

His arms curl around her and she thinks that maybe she could work with this.

She leans into it.

Away from Beca. Finally.

 

* * *

 

**4\. …and tell me twice**

Beca looks aggravated. 

“Uh oh,” Fat Amy says. “She does  _not_  look happy.”

Chloe only has time to look up just as Beca moves to pull her up out of her seat.

“Get out,” Beca says to all the other Bellas.

There’s a brief pause before Fat Amy snorts and resumes reading her book. “You two have basically boned while I was living with you. What’s the difference now?”

Chloe scowls at that, but doesn’t bother correcting her. It’s not worth it.

(Though the image that it plants in her mind is something she wants to return to later.)

Nobody looks particularly shocked. Chloe glances around because Beca’s still kind of awkwardly holding her hands and they’re all still in their outfits from Beca’s debut performance. Cynthia-Rose is filing her nails, feet propped up on Stacie’s lap. Aubrey is showing Stacie something on her phone. Flo listening to music and reading. Emily is watching them with a smile and wide eyes. Fat Amy is watching as well, though with a feigned disinterest that’s almost believable. Lily/Esther is scrawling something in a notebook with large sweeps of her hand.

Chloe thinks briefly that there’s really no place she’d rather be, though in her ideal world, she’d have an explanation as to why Beca’s holding her hands.

Her explanation comes about half a second after that thought passes through her mind. “I’m going to kiss you now,” Beca announces loudly, red flush rising up her cheeks.

“You are?” Chloe asks – or at least tries to, because Beca is leaning up and kissing her with the most passion and tenderness that she’s ever felt from her. 

The kiss shocks her. A system shock, if anything.

She can’t recall kissing Chicago with this level of passion. Her first instinct is to smother flame because she’s tried to do so throughout this entire tumultuous…relationship with Beca. Beca, who runs with uncertainty, the weight of which threatens to crush Chloe with every passing moment. She briefly considers whether she’s drunk, whether she’s just imagining the softness of Beca’s lips against hers. 

But she’s not drunk, and this isn’t a dream. She’s tentatively allowed to slide her hands up Beca’s back, heart warring with her brain that screams at her to  _stop_  because it’s going to end, it’s going to  _end_ -

And it doesn’t. Beca tilts her head, pulls their bodies closer together, and only deepens the kiss. 

It’s not the taste that Chloe’s always craved, but rather the full fare. She moans into Beca’s mouth, clutching at whatever fabric she can find; clutching at carefully styled hair, uncaring if she messes it up because this is everything she’s ever wanted.

Chloe has kissed many people.

She knows in an instant that she won't ever forget  _this_ , wonders if anything can top it, but she’ll beg to try again if they ever stop, which – they probably should because Aubrey’s clearing her throat loudly. 

"We should stop," she whispers thickly. Tries clearing her throat. Tries to think of how to make this situation better, though she’s dazed and smiling through it all.

“I love you,” Beca says, shy under the scrutiny from all their friends.

Chloe doesn’t think it gets better than that.

 

* * *

  

**5\. been here before, too many times**

It’s different. Or not.

Chloe thinks that being in love makes it completely different. She tries to stifle her giggle when Beca’s hands slide playfully down her bare back. She squirms away, but it only causes Beca to give chase; only causes Beca to roll them so she’s back on top of Chloe. The warm weight is comforting and secure.

“Okay, we should probably get up, though,” Beca admits, between kisses.

Chloe hums in agreement (or disagreement) and only loops her arm behind Beca’s neck and holds her close for another kiss. She flicks her tongue against the back of Beca’s teeth, swiping, exploring-

“Amy’s going to be back soon,” Beca warns without any real persuasion. Her leg slides deliciously between Chloe’s. Chloe rocks her hips up deliberately in response. Beca’s eyes darken.

“Maybe we should get up,” Chloe says breathlessly. “You still need to pack for LA.”

Beca whines, but she does sit up at that. Their pieces of luggage from Europe are still messily strewn around the apartment, unopened for the most part.

Chloe shoots a grin over her shoulder when she gets out of bed, very aware of how Beca’s gaze roams hungrily. She picks up a t-shirt just as she feels Beca’s body collide with hers, hands coming to rest low on her hips. Lips glide over her shoulder blade. “I hate packing,” Beca mumbles, raspy voice and dangerously wandering hands.

“I know,” Chloe placates. She gently removes Beca’s hands from her body so she can pull on her shirt, followed by a pair of shorts. “Put on some clothes, babe.”

Chloe wanders over to the counter to pick up her thermos of tea that she had forgotten about. She’s pleased to note that it’s still warm. It soothes her scratchy throat, hoarse from, well. She smiles behind the thermos, watching Beca grumble as she pulls on a pair of sweats and zips up her hoodie. She tries not to think about how much  _skin_  she had access to the night before, but it occurs to her that…that she can. She can think about that because Beca is as much in love with as she had been for all those years when she thought she was alone in this endeavour.

“Give me some of that, Beale,” Beca mutters, tugging the thermos towards herself with one hand while the other comes to rest comfortably on Chloe’s hip. 

Beca jumps a little as the door opens and steps away from Chloe instinctively. It’s the years of repressing these feelings and hiding them not only from the Bellas, but more importantly from herself. Chloe rolls her eyes and sips her tea, watching as Beca greets Fat Amy amicably as if they didn’t just spend two hours making love in full view of the front door.

And even as Chloe’s heart greedily soaks in all the love she’s finally allowing herself to feel, she thinks of how brief this is - an interlude of sorts - while Beca jets off to Los Angeles. Davis is only hours away, of course.

She knows that distance won’t matter as much, not when she and Beca have spent years trying to make this  _not_ work. 

It’s going to work so well that Chloe won’t even know what to do with herself, she’s sure.

Watching Beca and Fat Amy jostle each other playfully, Chloe wonders how her life came to this, but she’s sure the journey is a story all its own.

It’s not that different, Chloe supposes. Nothing has really changed, just that she finally feels like she can see clearly and breathe easier for the first time in years.

 

* * *

 

 

**6. ~~maybe~~  this time it’s you she wants**

Chloe commits this to memory. She’s smiling across the aisle at Beca, clad in a beautiful white dress, her hair tumbling down in soft brown curls across bare, delicate shoulders. Briefly, she wonders if Beca had fought against the white dress, whether she had suggested  _black._

But she sees the way Beca’s eyes glisten back at her, a helpless smile on her own lips. 

The haze lifts momentarily so that Chloe can hear Beca’s vows.

Beca opens her mouth, and Chloe loses it.

“I think,” Beca begins. “That I’m going to spend every day of the rest of our lives together, wondering how I got so lucky to love you and have you love me in return. Even through it all, I think about how far we’ve come and how much further we have to go. You taught me how to be brave, you know? You taught me how to open up.” Beca’s eyes are watery. Chloe’s not sure she can last. “I’m so grateful for you every day, Chlo…and I want to spend the rest of my life making sure that I can make you as happy as you make me.”

Behind Beca, Fat Amy cheers and Aubrey blows her nose loudly from behind Chloe. It’s enough to make both Beca and Chloe laugh, but it’s joyous and free. Chloe grabs Beca’s hands and pulls her into her arms before their officiator even finishes speaking. Tilting Beca back slightly, Chloe kisses her like it’s the first day of the rest of their lives, in front of their friends and family members.

Distantly, there’s cheering (probably Emily) and whistling (probably Flo) that threatens to permeate their bubble. Beca’s hands grip her shoulders surely and firmly, though, so Chloe could care less.

She’s kissing her  _wife_ , the love of her life.

When she pulls back, Beca is flushed and smiling toothily at her. “Hello,  _wife_ ,” she says shyly. 

Chloe doesn’t know what that does to her, but the thrill of emotions that rush through her makes her chest ache. The best kind of ache.

“Wife,” she repeats. “I  _love_ the way that sounds.”

Amidst the applause, Beca tugs her back in for another kiss, smile still playing across her lips. “I love you,” she murmurs, and it’s probably the best kiss Chloe’s ever had in her life. 


End file.
